


Nothin' but mammals

by checkthemargins, mediaville



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Banter, Blow Jobs, Facials, Humor, M/M, This is massively dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:53:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkthemargins/pseuds/checkthemargins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediaville/pseuds/mediaville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're young dudes, right? Not everything can be star-crossed romance or bitter angst. Sometimes it just has to be banter and blowjobs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothin' but mammals

**Author's Note:**

> None of this actually happened. Also, our sincerest apologies to Liam Payne.

Harry hasn't seen any of the boys but Niall since he landed in Adelaide, went from the plane to the golf course with barely a minute to put his bags down and change at the hotel. He's jetlagged but it always hits him like an adrenaline rush the first few days, and he plays really well but he's jittery and over-energetic all morning. So when they get back to the hotel he hugs Niall goodbye and goes straight for the bathroom. He lights an aromatherapy candle on the sink, strips down and has a shower and a nice, relaxing wank. He feels a bit better after, cleaner, at least, and it's still hours before the show.

He finds the boys crowded together in Liam's room watching a film, save for Louis.

"What'd you shower for?" Niall asks him. He's sprawled over a big armchair, legs hooked over the side, still in his golf kit.

"Yeah," says Zayn, eying Harry curiously. "S'only golf. Did someone write 'wash me' in your spray tan again?" 

Harry shrugs. He scratches the side of his nose and frowns at Wolverine playing on the telly. He's getting so bloody tired of superhero everything. It's like being surrounded by little kids all the time. Liam's on the floor clipping his toenails into a small trashcan. Zayn's watching with a look of mild disgust on his face from the sofa. It looks weird, just the three of them there.

"Looking for Tommo?" Liam says, and Harry frowns. 

"No," he says, because he wasn't. Not until Liam said it. He hates when Liam does that. 

"I saw a magazine article about how you two are lovahs," Liam says absently, not looking up from his toenail clipping. "There were pictures and drawings so it must be true."

"It can't be true that you read a magazine, though," Harry says. "Did you get help with the big words?"

Liam rolls his eyes, but doesn't look up. "I told you there were pictures," he says. "Duh."

Harry stands quietly through a few more explosions and snicks of the toenail clipper, then says, "Where is Louis?"

"Forty seconds," Zayn says, looking at his watch. Then, "Talking with Paul," as he looks up at Harry, giving him a thumbs up that Harry steadily ignores. "They took it to his hotel room."

"Sounds sexy," Harry says, because that's the sort of joke he's supposed to make, and sometimes he says things without thinking.

"Jealous?" Niall asks, waggling his eyebrows, even though that's the sort of joke they ought not to make, but apparently Niall sometimes also says things without thinking. 

"Violently," Harry says. "I'm so predictable."

"Still gonna go check on him, though, aren't you?" Zayn calls. Harry flips him off as he leaves the room.

 

  
Paul isn't there when Harry walks in. Louis's sprawled longways on the sofa, remote in hand, looking snuggly in a stretched out t-shirt and loose trackies. He nods a greeting, and then frowns, looking Harry up and down. "What the hell d'you shower for? Have an extra high-intensity par?"

Harry makes a face. "Do you even know what par means?"

Louis shrugs. "Tee. Greens. Got a birdie. Over the bogie."

“Yes, you’ve got it exactly. Like you’ve been playing for years,” Harry agrees, grinning even though Louis is an idiot.

“I’m naturally athletic,” Louis says, flicking his eyes back to the telly. “Ooooh, _Duck Dynasty_. A real glimpse into America.”

Harry’s got lots of experience squeezing onto half of a sofa cushion, but Louis is literally sprawled everywhere, so Harry kicks at his legs, knocking them off so that he can sit.

“Oi!” Louis yelps. “Watch the knee!”

Harry bites back a laugh, even as he tucks Louis’s feet onto his lap. “Yes, right,” he says. “Not sure how I’d forgot about your injury.”

Louis wiggles his toes so that they’re digging under Harry’s thigh, in between his legs. He sniffs. “Liam wouldn’t have forgot.” His eyes stay glued to the television. “I’m just saying.”

“Yes, well, Liam's a great friend until he accidentally lights you on fire," Harry says, earning a snort from Louis.

“Don't start with my boy, Styles,” Louis says, fighting down a smile. "It'd be quite easy for me to kick you in the testes right now."

Louis nudges Harry in the balls and Harry grabs his ankle and grins. “Should you be kicking anything? What with the delicate condition of your knee?”

“My knee is well enough to put you over it,” Louis grumbles. “You’d best not forget that.”

"I don't forget things like that," Harry says after a beat too long. He doesn't mean to, but his voice drops a little, making him sound like he's leering. It's just—it's not a bad mental picture, is all.

"Pervert," Louis says.

" _Cheeky_ ," Harry says, correcting him. He slides one hand up Louis's leg, pushing the loose fabric from ankle to calf. He doesn't mean anything by it, it's just that Louis's skin is really warm and he'd prefer to touch it directly. He trails the tips of his fingers through the oddly light hair on Louis's leg, thinks it over. Maybe he does mean something by it. "A massage will help," he says lazily, sliding his hand past Louis’s knee, keeps slipping his fingers up, as high as the track bottoms will let him go. "You're lucky you have such a good pal who will do that for you."

"True," Louis says. "If only Liam were _here_ , though. Maybe I'll call— _bugger_!" he yelps when Harry pinches and twists, yanks out a few leg hairs. "You're a fuckwit bastard," he says, digging his heel into Harry's thigh hard enough to hurt. Harry just grins. "Why are you even here? Isn't American Apparel expecting you? Don't you have any babies to bless?"

Harry laughs loudly, not even caring that it's at his own expense. "I'll bless your baby," he says even though it's idiotic.

Louis snorts, dainty hand darting up to cover his mouth. He looks over at Harry, incredulous. Harry laughs quietly and shrugs, not even embarrassed enough to work up a full blush. Louis making him stupid is nothing new. 

He slides his hand up further, catches Louis’s cock in the space between his thumb and forefinger, presses his palm against Louis’s balls and rubs. Louis sucks in an audible breath before he says, "What's wrong with you? You're like an animal in heat, humping everything that holds still long enough.” He shifts on the couch so that his hips are tilted upwards, giving Harry better access. Harry curls his fingers around Louis's cock through his pants, smiles when he finds it half-hard already. “Should put you in a zoo," he says, not looking away from the screen, but his dick stiffens up quickly enough. When Harry glances up at his face, he’s biting at his lip, cheeks pink.

It’s not why he’d come to Louis’s room but Harry is always up for this sort of thing. It’s barely been an hour since he’s pulled one off, but there’s something about Louis that gets to him every time, makes him feel like his sixteen-year old self: sex-starved and obsessed. He looks up at Louis under his eyelashes, but Louis's staring determinedly at the telly.

“Bloody hell, this is good tv,” Louis says, voice cracking a bit when Harry gives him a firm squeeze. "A bit distracting with you pawing at me like that, though."

“Mixed messages,” Harry says, palming at the stiff poke of Louis's dick through his trousers. “Unless there’s a banana in your pocket.” 

"I bet you’re wishing it _were_ a banana in my pocket," Louis says, lifting his hips a little to rub against Harry's hand, eyes going hazy and heavy-lidded.

"You know what," Harry says slowly, pretending to think it over. "I could absolutely go for a banana right about now." He frames Louis's dick with his fingers, propping it up so that it juts out crudely. "Even a stubby little one," he muses, wiggling his hand so that the bulge of Louis's dick bobs back and forth. Louis isn't small, at least not in the pants area, but Harry's always been bigger, and anyway, it's fun to wind him up. "Still delicious, no matter the size."

"Big enough to fill that big gob of yours," Louis huffs even as he hooks his thumbs in his trackies and wiggles them down, tugging his briefs off as he goes, and that settles that. It’s a thing now, a thing that’s going to happen, because Louis is pantsless and hard and Harry wants him. 

The knob of Louis's dick is smooth and hot in his hand, and Harry shifts his grip to rub up under the crown, where Louis is most sensitive. Louis's face screws up from how good it feels and his lips are pink, like his cheeks. He's such a frustrating combination of so, so pretty and chiseled-handsome that Harry is silently glad that he's short, and therefore not likely to get as much attention from fashion types. Even though there are probably millions of girls crying over Louis right now, Harry likes the idea of keeping Louis all to himself. 

Louis's legs fall open on either side of Harry, knees bent. His breath hitches when Harry ducks down and runs his tongue up the seam of his sac, nosing at the base of his cock. It's uncomfortable, crouched on the sofa with Louis sprawled all over the place, but his mouth goes wet anyway, greedy for Louis's dick. When he slurps the tip into his mouth, Louis exhales loudly, groans, "There's a good lad," as he spreads the fingers of one hand through Harry's hair.

If his mouth wasn't full of cock he'd laugh it off, make fun of Louis for being so cliché, but as it is the compliment just heats Harry up from the inside, making his skin tingle. He tightens his lips just under the tip and presses down, sliding Louis's foreskin back with his mouth. He sucks Louis slowly at first, getting him slick with spit and listening for the changes in Louis's breathing, feeling the way his muscles tense and flex when Harry tongues him just right.

He darts a quick glance down when he starts to drool, watches his saliva slide down Louis's crack. He chases it with a curious finger, only to get a sharp tug on his hair that makes him gasp. "None of that," Louis says, breathlessly. "Stay focused."

"Sowwy," Harry mumbles, forgetting for a moment that his mouth is stuffed full. It sounds so ridiculous that he can't hold back a laugh, which ends up more like a choking snort followed by a loud hacking noise. He pulls off and coughs wetly, wiping at his mouth.

"World's greatest sex symbol, ladies and gents," Louis says, chuckling even as he pets soothingly at Harry's temple. "You going to live?"

Harry nods sheepishly. He clears his throat and tries to get back to it, but he can't stop grinning, big laughs threatening to burst from his belly.

Louis's soothing pets turn into a laddy tussle of Harry's hair. "I'm glad," he says lightly. "I've grown rather fond of you during this blowjob. Would be a shame for you to die before it's over." 

The best Harry can do is duck down again and nuzzle his smile against Louis's slippery prick. He feels insane, so turned on but also borderline hysterical. Louis's grip goes tight in his hair again soon enough, though, and that does the trick. There's a special way that Louis manages to be rough with him that's absolutely brilliant, makes Harry go dumb with pleasure. "Oh," he gasps, dropping a hand down to squeeze at his own dick, pounding in his jeans. He's only just gotten himself off in the shower, but Louis has him strung tight already, desperate to fuck.

Louis tugs again, sharper this time, and Harry's eyes flutter closed. "Focus, sweetheart," Louis reminds him, quiet but firm. "You've got me so close." Harry nods his head quickly, groaning. He opens his mouth wide around the base of Louis's dick, pressing the flat of his tongue there and licking up. Louis keeps a tight grip on his hair, guiding Harry down and tugging him back up at the pace he likes. Harry sucks him hungrily, tongue pressing the hot skin of Louis's cock up against the roof of his mouth as he tries to take Louis deeper into his throat. "So close," Louis breathes, and Harry moans around him, drooling messily as he bobs faster, keeping a steady rhythm even when Louis starts to lose his.

He's so riled up he feels like he might come when he feels Louis's cock swell up further, twitching in his mouth. He fastens his lips tighter to try to hold back his saliva but he's too wet, too eager for the taste of Louis's come. When Louis drops his hand from Harry's hair to push half-heartedly at Harry's shoulder, Harry grunts and goes down deeper, trying to coax the come out of Louis with his tongue. 

"Go on then," Louis pants as he curls his hand back around the base of Harry's neck, pulling him down. "Swallow. Maybe it'll— _ah God_ put a little hair on your chest."

Harry pulls back enough to catch the first shot of it in the cradle of his tongue, moaning at the taste. Louis holds him steady through the next couple of spurts, not that Harry would even think of pulling off, desperate to catch every drop. He suckles gently at Louis's prick until Louis grumbles and pushes him off, whining when he does.

Harry holds still for a moment, face pressed against Louis's hip, panting against his skin. He's really hard now, his dick squeezed uncomfortably in his skinnies, the taste of Louis's come thick on his tongue. "You say that to all the girls?" Harry asks, voice fucked out and hoarse. Louis ignores him, boneless and sated, breathing heavy.

"Jesus. Shit, Hazza. Gonna need a whole entry in your little diary for that one," he says, voice hoarse. 

"Jesus shit?" Harry rasps, lips quirking against Louis's hip.

"The holiest of shits," says Louis, not missing a beat, and Harry has to press his smile into Louis's skin, always so pleased with how clever Louis is. Harry keeps his face buried there until Louis drags one of his palms up Harry's back to cup the nape of his neck, pulling gently. Harry's lips are slick, buzzing as Louis tugs him up. He noses along the line of Louis's throat until Louis tilts his head back and Harry can open his mouth over the swell of his Adam's apple. 

Louis twists his fingers in Harry's hair, tugging him up insistently until Harry remembers that Louis isn't shy about kissing, even when Harry's still got the taste of Louis's come on his tongue. Kissing Louis always gets Harry dizzy, body charged up, and the way Louis's lips catch against his, mouth open, tongue flicking out makes Harry shiver with want. Louis breaks away with a soft smack and a laugh, heavy-lidded eyes glazed while Harry scrabbles his hand down to open his flies, groaning with the relief of pressure. When Louis shifts his thigh up to rub between Harry's legs lazily Harry moans, low and filthy around Louis's tongue. "Christ, you really are a horny pup, aren't you? Begging for it and everything."

"'m not begging," says Harry, but he would, and will, if it comes to that. He doesn't mind asking for what he wants. That's always been Louis's problem, not his. 

"Feels like," Louis says, breath catching so that he has to stop and swallow before finishing, "feels like you're begging, here." He wiggles one hand in between their bodies to grope Harry's dick, fingers sliding easily where Harry's gone slick. "You're drooling all over my leg, mate. So worked up from sucking me off," Louis says, nudging at Harry's face with his nose. He's so beautiful up close that Harry has to duck down, rather than go cross-eyed staring at Louis's face. "How long's it been since you've gotten off? Too lazy to take care of it on your own, rock star?"

"'Bout an hour?" Harry says, panting. He wants Louis to wank him roughly, not this slow, loose stroking he's doing. He bites his lip and ruts down harder, pushing his swollen cock into Louis's grip. 

"Ridiculous," Louis chokes on a laugh, but he tightens his grip on Harry's cock, so it's all good. He snags Harry's mouth in another kiss, this time a bitey, fierce one. He pulls away a moment later, lets go of Harry's dick and trails his wet fingers around to the cleft of Harry's arse, slipping under his slack jeans. "Got yourself off in the shower then," he says, mouth pressed to Harry's ear as he dips his fingers down lower, making Harry arch his hips up hungrily. "Did you make sure to clean up in here?"

Harry's breath hitches in his throat when Louis circles one slick finger around his rim, rubbing at his hole and tucking the tip of his finger inside. His tongue grazes the shell of Harry's ear and Harry muffles a moan into Louis's shoulder, sinking his teeth into the ink over his heart. Louis jerks, hips shoving up into Harry's because he's always liked biting and Harry wants him riled up now, wants Louis to open him up fast. 

"Yeah," he murmurs, even though it isn't true. It's hot, and he'll probably do it next time. "Yeah, I was—unhh, yeah I was very thorough."

Louis tongues at his earlobe and pushes his finger in to the knuckle, threads the fingers of his other hand into the sweat-damp hair at the back of Harry's neck, tugs the short hairs there harshly enough that Harry whimpers. "Get these off," Louis says, knocking his wrist against the back of Harry's jeans. Harry shimmies out of them before Louis is even finished asking, spreading his legs wantonly around Louis's hips. Louis's hands on his bum are scorching hot in the cool room, goosebumps climbing up his spine and down his thighs. Harry slots his knees on either side of Louis's hips for a bit of leverage and shoves his hips down hard. "Slut," Louis starts to say, chuckling, but Harry lifts his head and slots their mouths together again, nips sharply at Louis's bottom lip until he opens up and tongues inside. When Louis adds another finger Harry breaks the kiss with a wet smack, mouth open, eyes closed tight at the burn. Louis mouths along his jaw and neck, mumbling even as he twists his fingers inside, "'Dear Diary, today I rode my own fingers in the shower. Is that rude?'" He presses them deeper and Harry cries out, clinging to Louis's shoulders as he fucks down jerkily.

They don't do this often, not anymore, but Louis knows how to work Harry's arse like nobody else. His hands are small, fingers slim and shorter than others he's had, but Louis is quick and attentive, listening to Harry's breathing and cataloguing his squirms so that he's sure to make it really good. Really, _really_ good.

"S'good," Harry says, voice breaking.

"Could be better," Louis says, sliding his fingers out and slapping Harry on the bum. Harry frowns, about to argue when Louis rolls his eyes and says, "Need some slick."

Louis twists his torso, flinging his arm out to reach for something on the carpet, and Harry can't hold back. He presses his nose and mouth to the inside of Louis's arm, nuzzles at his pit where he's hot and damp. It's not a thing, like, Harry doesn't go around licking people's armpits, but he likes touching Louis where he's vulnerable, likes the way his nosing around makes Louis curl up and squawk, ticklish. Harry hides his smile in Louis's t-shirt, mouth pressed against Louis's flank. He wants to feel skin, bites at the cotton of Louis's t-shirt and tugs.

"The zoo, I said," Louis grumbles, squirming away as Harry makes a silly little growling noise, like _grrr-rrr-rrr_ and dives in again, this time wiggling his fingers up under Louis's shirt. "Oi!" Louis yelps and swats at him roughly. "Feel like I'm getting humped by a chihuahua." There's a snick from the cap on the lube in the background. Harry grins.

"Did you know that chihuahuas have extremely large penises?" Harry smiles at Louis innocently as he settles back down, even as his hands drift down to Louis's hips, digging his fingers into the hot skin there. "I mean, in proportion to body size."

Louis snorts. "Doesn't mean I want to fuck one."

"Hmm," Harry muses. "You probably would if you were a lady chihuahua. Or, you know," he nips at Louis's neck, making Louis tilt his head to the side to give him room. "A gay chihuahua." 

"Are you even hearing yourself?" Louis says. He sounds like he's holding back a laugh, but he tugs Harry up by his neck, blinks at him fondly. "This is some classic Harry Styles pillow talk right here. Which one of us did you just call a gay chihuahua?"

Harry grins back at him, because even if Louis is taking the piss, he looks happy, and Harry likes that. "I just meant that a gay or a lady chihuahua would appreciate a large chihuahua penis."

"Mmm," Louis agrees. "Which one are you? The gay one or the lady one?"

Harry frowns. "There's not a gay one and a lady one." Louis tugs him up a little further, reaches down between his legs, shoulder flexing as he does. "There's a gay one and another gay one. Or a lady one and a—I suppose he could be bi?" Finally, finally he feels Louis's fingers pressing slick into the crease of his arse, rubbing it up inside him. "Do you think chihuahuas have threesomes?" he manages to get out, just before Louis slides three fingers in quickly. " _Oh_ ," he gasps.

Louis doesn't fuck in and out, just holds there, letting Harry feel the stretch. He strokes Harry's hair back from his face with his other hand, cupping his jaw with one hand. "Yeah?" he asks, looking Harry in the eye.

It's not why he'd come to Louis's room but sometimes Harry's helpless to how much he wants him. "Yeah, yeah," Harry says, swallowing thickly, "please."

"Begging for it," Louis murmurs, and Harry would kiss the smug look off his face but Louis has three fingers in his arse and he's not moving and Harry is pretty much about to beg. Harry hitches his knees up further, tilting his hips up, trying to coax Louis into touching him the way he wants, but Louis is lazy about it, all comed out and loose. He's stroking Harry's rim, playing with it almost idly, and it's driving Harry mad.

"C'mon," he complains. "Just—do it. Inside."

"One hundred percent improvement on your sex dialogue," Louis says, grinning. He does give Harry a few enthusiastic presses, more like jabs, going rough enough to make Harry bite his lip and hold very still, hoping for more. "Of course when you start with chihuahua cock," he laughs, letting his finger slip out, "there's really no way but up, is there?"

"You're insufferable," Harry grumbles, rutting purposefully into the crease between Louis's leg and his groin. The skin is too dry there, and Louis is too skinny now. He used to be able to fuck up against Louis's belly, back when they didn't know any better, and the combination of Louis's softness with their total hormone overload had Harry shooting off before Louis could even get a hand on him. Things have changed since then. "Turn over," Harry breathes, rocking back up onto his knees to give Louis room to roll onto his belly.

Unfortunately, albeit predictably, Louis doesn't do as he asks. 

"Oh no," Louis says with a knowing grin. "I'm not falling for that again."

Harry opens his eyes wide, tries to look as innocent as possible. "I promise," he says, pleading, "I won't put it in. I just wanna—" He ruts his stiff cock into Louis's hip again. "I just wanna do this a little." He slides both hands underneath Louis's hot little body, grips at his bum. "Here," he clarifies, pulling Louis's cheeks apart and fucking down against him again. "God let me just—"

Louis makes a tsking noise. "That's what you said in Barcelona, mate," he says, shaking his head. "I was just being a pal and then _yowwch!_ " Louis actually howls loudly, making Harry flail to bring a hand up and slap it over his mouth. 

"Shut it," Harry hisses, trying to bite back his own laughter. "You're going to make me lose my stiffy."

Louis sniffs, unimpressed. "Since when is your willy my problem?"

"Anyway," Harry says, refusing to let Louis distract him. "You love it when it hurts." It gets exactly the reaction he'd hoped for, Louis's cheeks going flushed as he bites his lip. "You love my big cock," he says, trying for confident. "Love getting stuffed full of it."

Louis inhales shakily, but narrows his eyes at Harry and says, "It's almost as big as your head." Then his eyes go wide and he quickly amends, "I meant your _ego_. Not your—" he gestures in a circle above Harry's hair, "that thing."

Harry drops down again, grinding his hips in a slow circle against Louis's body. "You love it when I fuck you," he whispers, mouth moving against Louis's hot little ear, smiling when Louis stretches his neck to give him more room. "You like to pretend that you don't but when I get even just the tip inside," he murmurs, cock fattening up further when Louis spreads his legs, lets him get good leverage with his thrusts, "you beg for me to give you more." He slips his hands back down under Louis, presses his fingers into the crease of Louis's arse and hitches him closer. He wants inside so badly. "'Harder' you tell me," Harry says. "'Fuck me harder.'" Louis starts to say something, likely a witty comeback, but he chokes on his words when Harry spreads him wider, holding him open with his hands. "I could fuck you now, if you like." 

Louis doesn't agree, and Harry mostly knows he won't, but he thrills at the way Louis's fingers dig into his back, the surprised quiet little gasp that escapes him.

"I could skip the slick," Harry says, purely for effect. "Really make it burn."

Louis swallow thickly, but he does manage to say, "You're such a gentleman"

"C'mon," Harry begs, desperate now. He's so worked up, he's got to come. He's one rejection away from just sitting up and wanking all over Louis's frowning face. 

The idea zings through him, ratcheting him up even more. 

"Am I being too subtle for you?" Louis says, tilting his head to the side. "No thank you." He pushes at Harry's cheek like a slow, feeble slap.

"Okay," Harry says, breathless now. "Okay, that's okay."

"I'm well aware," Louis says with a smirk. "But thanks for your valida—"

"Just lie there," Harry says, cutting him off as he sits up, shuffles his knees up so that he's straddling Louis's waist, one hand snugged around his tender cock. "Think you can handle that?" His hand feels good so he gives his cock a few slow pulls, feels it get bigger in his grip. Louis stares openly, hungrily, despite his protests. That's just Louis.

"Charming," Louis says, but his voice has gone raspy and broken, his interest betraying him. He wants it, Harry knows, and the idea of it makes Harry speed up, his fist blurring on just the knob of his dick, right where it feels sweetest.

He can feel his balls bounce on Louis's chest, jostling with every stroke. He tries to keep his eyes on Louis's face, eyes clinging hungrily to the quick dart of Louis's pink tongue as he wets his lips, but it's tough to keep his eyes open. It feels too good. He wants to cover Louis in come, wants to see it dripping off of his eyelashes, sliding thickly down his pretty nose and into his mouth.

The image is enough to make it happen, frantic snaps of his wrist sending slick wads of jizz splattering on Louis's skin. He doesn't quite make the eyes although he knows he could have if it had been his first come of the day. Instead the first blurt lands just under Louis's mouth, the second down lower on his chin, the third dribbling onto his neck. Harry leans forward, resting his weight on one arm while he squeezes the last bit out, smearing it on Louis's mouth. He exhales shakily. 

Louis looks affected, cheeks still flushed hectic and obvious. Still, he draws a breath in through his nose and licks at his lips tentatively, brow furrowing when he tastes Harry's come. "You done, caveman? Or did you want to wee on me as well?"

Harry laughs weakly, drops down on the side of the sofa, knocking Louis towards the edge. "Next time," he says, patting Louis on the tummy.

 

Harry fucks around on his phone while Louis showers, sprawled naked on the sofa where Louis's body heat lingers. His arse still aches a bit from Louis's fingers and he opens his legs up, drops one foot to the floor and rubs his bum down into the cushions to feel the pressure. He'd like to get fucked, will maybe be able to talk Louis into it later. It's been a long time and now he's had a taste he wants the rest of it. Maybe he can coax Louis into that mood where he likes to be pushed around, and Harry can just sit him down and mount up, ride him 'til Louis can't help but come all hot and messy inside him.

It's too early to get hard again, but the idea makes him hot all over anyway and he gets a little lost in it, forgetting about his game of Solitaire entirely for several long minutes. Suddenly Louis's at the end of the sofa, all damp and flushed from hot water, cozy in a jumper and trackies and giving Harry his most unimpressed look. "You're unbelievable," he says, shaking his head.

"I have a healthy sexual appetite," Harry argues, but he blushes anyway, annoyed that Louis can read him so easily.

"Like all big-dicked chihuahuas," says Louis. Harry cracks a grin, and then outright laughs when Louis picks up his jeans and drops them over his groin. "Get that thing outta my sight."

"He doesn't mean that, baby," Harry coos at his willy, smirking at the disgusted sound Louis makes.

"Hurry it up, will you? I want to go see what the others are doing."

"No one's keeping you here," says Harry, but he reluctantly picks himself up to get dressed anyway.

"It's my hotel room, smart arse."

"You're such a twat sometimes." Harry raises his voice to an unflattering falsetto. "It's _my_ hotel room, it's _my_ telly, it's _my_ bunk. Stop looking at my arse, Harry, just because I've let you put your cock in it before—"

Louis nails him in the head with his own balled up socks. "I don't sound like that."

"The others aren't doing anything, anyway, just watching that stupid Wolveri—" He cuts himself off but not soon enough, judging by the way Louis's face lights up.

"I _love_ that film," says Louis.

Harry sighs heavily and buttons his jeans.

 

Liam and Zayn are still watching the movie, although the pedicure seems to have ended, thankfully. Louis makes a beeline for the sofa to sit next to Liam, and Harry rustles around in the mini bar, craving fruit but settling for a packet of peanut M&Ms, because at least there is protein in the peanuts. Zayn nods a greeting as he passes, and then frowns, narrowing his eyes at Louis as he takes in Louis's wet hair. "You, too? You're gonna have to shower again in like three hours."

"You smell like eucalyptus," Liam tells Louis, sniffing him. "S'nice."

Harry rolls his eyes and Zayn says, "It's the middle of the day." He levels an accusatory glare at Louis. "You didn't even play golf."

"I just fancied a shower. It's cold in my room. Oi, pass that here." Louis snags the bowl of popcorn off Liam's lap and sets it in his own. Harry frowns at his candy, because there's way more brown ones than any of the other colors, and he likes red best. They remind him of when Liam had told them, years ago when they were practically strangers, that red dye causes bad behavior in children, how they'd found him carefully separating the red Skittles from the bag and setting them aside, and how Louis had defiantly shoved them all in his mouth and crunched them obnoxiously in Liam's face. He opens up another packet, more than hungry enough to eat two, and is separating them amid stupid explosion noises from the film until the door opens again and Niall walks in.

"What the fuck?" says Zayn. Niall's hair is damp too, and he's in a different but identical white t-shirt than the one he was in before. "You too?"

"What?" asks Niall, confused. He looks down at his shirt, then back up, frowning.

"Zayn's in a panic because some of us bathe," says Louis.

"Fuck off, that's not—"

"I wasn't bathing," says Niall easily. He drops onto the loveseat, stretching his arms across the back. "Just cleanin' the pipes, y'know? S'healthy."

"T-M-I, dude," says Louis, and Harry's grateful that his snort is overshadowed by Zayn's salacious, "Ohhhh, _that's_ what's going on."

"No idea what you're talking about, mate," Louis sniffs.

"You're all horny bastards," says Zayn. "Must be something in the air."

"Why?" asks Harry. "Have you two got off today as well?"

"No," says Zayn, like that's a ridiculous accusation. "And unless Liam's been especially inconspicuous he hasn't either."

"But how could he, with you standing guard like that?" Louis says, petting Liam's head indulgently. "Next time," he whispers loudly to Liam, "you can just have a shower."

"I wasn't in the mood," Liam says, but his voice goes up at the end like it's a question.

"Not the air, then," Harry grins. "Otherwise you'd have been affected too."

Zayn opens his mouth to reply, but Liam cuts in, frowning and all eyebrows and utterly confused. "What the hell sort of wanking were you doing that you needed to shower after?"

"Christ," says Zayn, and Niall laughs out loud.

"No, really," Liam insists, looking around at each of them. "Don't you just, like," he stops abruptly, blushing. "Wait. You're all having me on, aren't you?"

"Liam," Louis says, sounding incredibly fond. He reaches up to smooth his hand over Liam's hair. "We'll get you a picture book, okay?"

"Oh shut up," says Liam, shoving him away, but he's smiling. He pushes Louis over and pins him down. Louis yawns in his face, even as Liam musses his hair so that it's covering his eyes. It's so long now, longer than it was even when they met. Harry likes it like this. Soft and floppy and messy. He barely notices when Gemma walks in, caught up as he is in admiring Louis. Harry nods in greeting, back to sorting his sweets, but it's not until Liam says, "Oh, I guess girls do it too," that he looks over.

Gemma's hair is wet and she's got a brush she's snagging out the knots with while she walks. Niall moves over to make room on the loveseat, and she sits down next to him, tucking her feet up underneath her and handing Niall the brush. He shrugs and twists about so he can finish combing her hair for her. 

Louis shoves Liam off him and sits up, fixing his fringe and giving Niall a delightedly pointed look. "Really now, Niall? Cleaning the pipes?"

"Aw, shut up Tommo. Nothin' different from what you were up to."

Gemma coughs and takes the comb back from Niall. "Possibly it was _slightly_ different," she says.

"I'm sure your shower was extremely virtuous," says Louis, smiling broadly at her. "But fair point, Irish. Anyone fancy a soda?"

Liam's the only one who answers. "Nah, mate, I'm good."

"I'm glad," Louis says, rubbing his shoulders. "I really care about your comfort." Liam looks over and smiles. Louis smiles back. "Fancy getting me one?"

"Sure, Lou."

Liam wanders over to pull a Dr. Pepper from the fridge next to Harry's legs just as Harry's picking up his plate of M&Ms to join the others. He shakes his head at Harry's sweets, making a tsking noise that makes Harry laugh. Harry smiles broadly and pads over to the couch, nudging at Gemma to make room for him. Her hair is tidy now, although Niall's still running his fingers through the ends, twirling them around his fingers, which is odd. They're sharing the same cushion, Niall's arm dropping round her shoulders. Harry stares at them for a long time, long enough that Gemma narrows her eyes at him, but her cheeks are pink. It clicks so hard in his brain that he nearly drops his plate. He points at them.

"Hey," he says, frowning.

Zayn rolls his eyes and Louis snorts into his drink, while Gemma says, "You're such an idiot." Niall looks vaguely apologetic. Gemma crosses her arms. "You really didn't know? I thought everyone knew."

"Everyone does know," Louis assures her. "Now, at least."

"Not the brightest crayon in the shed now, are we, Harry Styles?" Liam says, unnecessarily triumphant.

Harry stares at him. Zayn clears his throat. "Box, Li. It's box."

"Shut up," Louis says, defensive. "Don't laugh. Maybe in Wolverhampton they keep their crayons in sheds. Here Liam, have an M&M."

He snags one off Harry's plate as soon as Harry's within reach. Liam yowls, "Not the red ones!" even as Louis shovels several into his mouth.


End file.
